One Night
by Jestana
Summary: A night of passion leads to a lifetime of memories. Rating for some mature conversations.


One Night  
  
A/N: Response to Griselda La Fey's 'Albus I have something to tell you' challenge. Many thanks to Cielita for her advice and encouragement.  
  
"No." Minerva McGonagall felt the blood drain from her face. "No, Poppy, that cannot be true."  
  
The Healer-in-training shook her head. "I am sorry, Minerva, but it is. You're pregnant."  
  
"Oh no," Minerva moaned, burying her face in her hands.  
  
Poppy watched her friend for a moment, frowning. "What I do not understand is how you could be pregnant. As far as I know, you've not been with anyone..." A moan from the dark-haired witch was her answer. "Y-you have?" Minerva nodded, her face still in her hands. "When? Who? How?"  
  
"Two months ago." Minerva's words were muffled by her hands. "The night before we left Hogwarts." She drew a shuddering breath and looked at Poppy, her dark green eyes flat, devoid of any emotion. "He came to see me, to talk with me." She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. "The seventh year Gryffindors had a leaving party and I later found out that someone had managed to spike my drink, so I was rather drunk by the time he arrived from the staff party. He was drunk himself, though I've no idea why, so neither of us was thinking very straight at the time. When I woke the next morning, he was beside me in the bed. Both of us were naked." She shook her head, bemused. "It was both the best and worst night of my life."  
  
Poppy frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"  
  
Minerva sighed, opening her eyes. "I do not regret what happened. However, he was, and still is, a teacher."  
  
"A teacher?" Poppy asked, flabbergasted. "Which one?"  
  
Minerva gave her a withering look. "I do not mean to be rude, but which do you think, Poppy?"  
  
"Well, the only one I can think of that you would let near you is Professor Dumbledore..." Poppy's voice trailed off as she watched her friend closely.  
  
Minerva nodded, looking truly miserable. "I know he is much older, but that has never entered my mind. All that mattered was that he was a man and I was a woman."  
  
"Yes, I understand," Poppy smiled slightly, thinking of a different man she would like-- she quickly banished the thought, this was not the time to think of such things.  
  
Minerva exhaled and sat up straight. "I have no idea what to do now, Poppy. I cannot possibly continue my training while I am pregnant."  
  
"Well, do you want to keep the baby?" Poppy asked cautiously, hoping for one answer and dreading the other.  
  
Minerva's look was withering. "Of course I will. Despite the fact that this baby is unexpected, I will keep it."  
  
"Are you going to tell him, then?" Poppy inquired, relieved by her friend's previous answer.  
  
Minerva shrugged helplessly, the miserable look back. "I really do not know, Poppy. On the one hand, he _is_ the father and deserves to know. On the other hand, I should have taken precautions."  
  
"Tell him," Poppy suggested quietly. "Knowing him, he will be nothing short of supportive. He may even offer to marry you."  
  
Minerva's response was not what Poppy expected. "I do not want him to feel obligated to marry me, Poppy. If he proposes, I want it to be because he truly loves me, not because of a mistake caused by too much firewhiskey and hormones."  
  
"It is your choice, of course," Poppy answered with a sigh. "I really think you should tell him, though. As you said, he deserves to know that he's going to be a father."  
  
* * *  
  
The man in question had spent the last two months or so virtually beating himself up over the fact that he had committed the ultimate breach of protocol when it came to student-teacher relationships. He had slept with a student. Not just any student, either, but the Head Girl and top of the class to boot. Were it not for the fact that she had been his student at the time, he would have had no regrets. In fact, he would not mind continuing, but he could not do that to her. She had not had a chance to truly experience life for what it was and he had no wish to take that chance away from her. They'd been lucky that she was Head Girl and had the privilege of being given her own room. He could still remember waking up with a hangover resulting from the spiked punch his colleagues had served him and realizing his rather vivid dreams were actually memories...  
  
~The first thing he was aware of was the pounding in his head. He'd suspected last night that the drinks his colleagues had continually pressed on him had been spiked. The headache and awful taste in his mouth confirmed it. He slowly realized that there was someone in the bed with him. He frowned. He didn't recall taking one of the female staff members to his rooms with him last night. In fact, he didn't recall going back to his rooms at all. All he remembered was going to Gryffindor Tower to see Minerva. His memories became rather fuzzy after that, consisting of lots of kisses, caresses, and bare skin. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked around as much as he could without moving his aching head. 'By Excalibur, no!' He most definitely was not in his own bedroom. He was in the Head Girl's bedroom.  
  
Almost dreading what he would see, he reluctantly looked down at his bed companion. A pair of dark green eyes in a porcelain-fair face stared back at him. Looking lower, he quickly jerked his gaze back to her face. She wasn't wearing anything. After staring down at her for a long moment, he managed to get his voice to work for him. "Good morning, Miss McGonagall."  
  
She winced, raising a hand to her temple. "Please, Professor, not so loud."  
  
"I am sorry," he replied, softening his voice. "I think I should leave now."  
  
"Yes," she reluctantly agreed, averting her gaze as he carefully slid from under the covers. "You should."  
  
He quickly located his clothes and used a spell to clean and press them before dressing as quickly as he could. When he turned back to the bed, Minerva had gotten up as well and was just tying her dressing gown closed. She turned to look at him and he marveled at how beautiful she looked with her raven-dark hair a mess from a night of--he quickly stopped himself from going further with his thoughts. "I apologize for what happened last night. I should have exercised more self-control."  
  
"Professor, last night should not have happened, but it did and, to be honest, I do not regret it," she replied, moving around the bed to lay her hand on his arm. "Please do not apologize for it."  
  
He gently removed her hand from his arm and held it in both of his. "Very well, I will not say it again, but where does that leave us, then?"  
  
"I do not know, Professor." She shrugged helplessly.  
  
He had a feeling she was hiding something from him, but he could not think of what it could be. "Please, Minerva, after last night, it seems rather silly for you to continue calling me Professor."  
  
"Very well, Albus." She smiled as she said his name and he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Sounds on the stairs made both of them freeze. "Uh-oh. You had better go now. We cannot have you caught alone in here with me."  
  
He reluctantly nodded. "I see your point, Minerva."  
  
She followed him to the window. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Leaving of course," he answered matter-of-factly, opening the window.  
  
She grabbed his arm with both hands. "The drop is too far. You might kill yourself."  
  
"Some Animagi have more than one form, my dear," he told her, carefully prying her hands from his arm. "I am one of those."  
  
She stared as a beautiful eagle owl took his place, perching briefly on the windowsill, bright blue eyes staring at her. "Oh, my."  
  
With that, he turned and took off into the morning sunlight; swooping around the castle to the window he kept open a crack. Easing the window open, he flew into his room and changed back. Only then did he allow his shoulders to slump with the weight of what they had done...~  
  
Blinking, he returned to the present to a tapping sound on his window. Looking around, he saw a familiar owl perched outside his window. Rising, he crossed to the window and opened it. "Hello, Morwen, what does Alastor have to say?"  
  
Hooting, the owl swooped into the room and landed on the perch in the corner. Following the owl, he carefully removed the scroll of parchment from her leg and offered her an owl treat. As she gratefully ate it, he opened the letter.  
  
_Albus,  
  
How are things going for you? I haven't been given any big cases, but, then, I'd only finished my training a few months ago. I can hear you now: 'Patience, Alastor.' I'm being as patient as I possibly can, but it's still frustrating.  
  
Anyway, I was really pleased when I heard that Min had enrolled to begin Auror training, but now I've heard that she's withdrawn. The only answer I've gotten is that it's for 'personal reasons'. I have a feeling Poppy knows, but she won't tell me anything. I thought maybe you knew. If she's decided not to be an Auror, that's fine, but I just can't shake the feeling that there's more to it than I know.  
  
Sincerely, Alastor._  
  
Albus slowly lowered the letter, confused. Minerva had told him during her career advice session two years ago that she wanted to be an Auror. He'd had no doubt that she could do it. Why then, after having successfully begun the training, would she withdraw from the training?  
  
* * *  
  
Minerva had really hated to withdraw from the Auror training, but she just could not risk the baby. Her baby. It was still hard to believe that she was pregnant. Then something would happen to remind her that she most definitely was pregnant. Usually when she ended up in the bathroom, throwing up what she'd eaten several hours earlier. The pregnancy had yet to show, but it eventually would. She couldn't stay in London. Too many people would ask questions she couldn't answer. She had to go somewhere isolated and remote, where she wouldn't see many people. She also needed to decide whether she was going to tell Albus Dumbledore that he was going to a father in seven months. She was no closer to deciding than when Poppy had first told her she was pregnant several days before. Time was running out, though, she had to make her decision soon. Sighing, she rested her forehead against the window as she gazed unseeingly out at Muggle London. A noise from the fireplace behind her made her turn from the window. She felt the blood drain from her face. "A-Albus!"  
  
"Hello, Minerva," the head in the fire replied.  
  
She hurriedly crossed to the fire and crouched in front of it. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"I might ask the same of you," he countered, his voice firm.  
  
Her heart sank. It seemed she would be telling Albus after all. "You had better come over, Albus."  
  
His head vanished from the fire without another word and she moved back. Moments later, Albus unfolded his tall frame from the fireplace. "Minerva, why did you quit Auror training?"  
  
"How did--" she cut herself off. "Alastor wrote to you, I take it?"  
  
Albus nodded, the twinkle gone from his eyes. "I am afraid he did."  
  
"Have a seat?" she offered, indicating the couch.  
  
Smiling slightly, he crossed to it and sat down. "Thank you."  
  
"You are welcome," she replied, following him and curling up at the other end of the couch. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"  
  
"Tea will be fine." He adjusted his position on the couch so he could look more fully at her.  
  
She nodded and a flick of her wand produced two cups and saucers of tea, one flying over to hover in front of him while she plucked the other from the air. "There you are."  
  
"Thank you, Minerva." He plucked the cup and saucer from the air. "You are avoiding my question."  
  
She blushed and looked down at the cup of tea in her hands. "I suppose personal reasons will not be sufficient."  
  
"You suppose correctly," he answered, amusement evident in his voice. "Is it really that bad, Minerva?"  
  
She nodded, reluctantly raising her head to look up at him. "Albus, I have something I need to tell you."  
  
"I gathered that much," he answered, an amused smile on his face. "Go ahead."  
  
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm pregnant, Albus."  
  
* * *  
  
He stared at her, shocked. "I-I'm sorry, Minerva, could you say that again?"  
  
"I'm pregnant, Albus," she repeated, gazing steadily at him, though the hands holding her tea were less-than-steady.  
  
He carefully set his tea on the low table in front of the couch before he dropped it. "I am assuming you are telling me because I am the father?"  
  
"You are the only man I have been with, Albus," she answered quietly, setting her tea on the low table as well. "So you are the only logical choice."  
  
He nodded, rising and walking over to the window. "I see."  
  
"Albus, please believe me when I tell you that I have no intention of forcing you into anything because of this," she requested, rising as well.  
  
He turned to face her. "When did you find out, Minerva?"  
  
"Several days ago," Minerva admitted, remaining by the couch. "I had suspected, but Poppy confirmed it."  
  
He exhaled silently. Alastor's guess about Poppy knowing had been accurate. "Were you going to tell me?"  
  
She shrugged, looking down. "I was still trying to decide that matter when you arrived."  
  
"Ah, I see." He turned back to the window.  
  
Her robes rustled as she crossed to stand beside him. "Albus, I will understand if you want nothing to do with the baby. You have an established career to think of."  
  
"Minerva, you could not keep me away." He turned to her once more, his breath catching in his throat when he realized how close she was to him. "True, I had not planned on being a father just yet, but I will not leave you to raise this baby by yourself."  
  
She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Albus."  
  
"There is no need to thank me, Minerva." He smiled tenderly down at her, raising a hand to cup her cheek. "I am doing this willingly, with all my heart."  
  
When he lowered his head to kiss her, she pulled away. "Albus, I must know one thing before we proceed with anything."  
  
"What is that, Minerva?" he asked curiously.  
  
She gazed steadily up at him. "Do you love me?"  
  
"I think I mentioned it once or twice when--" he began, but she cut him off.  
  
"In the throes of passion and a drunken stupor do not count." Her voice was acerbic, but he thought he saw a hint of fear in her eyes.  
  
He gently grasped her hands in both of his. "Seeing as I am completely sober and not in the midst of passion, you can trust me when I tell you that I am truly in love with you, Minerva Renee McGonagall."  
  
"You are not just saying it because I want to hear it?" she asked, tears glistening in her dark eyes.  
  
He shook his head. "No, Minerva. I realized over the spring holidays that I am in love with you, hopelessly in love. That is why I visited you that night. Not to make love, though I rather enjoyed it."  
  
"I did, too," she confessed, her cheeks flushing a bright red.  
  
He chuckled. "I visited you because I wanted to see you one last time."  
  
She sighed and turned to look out the window, wrapping her arms around her waist. "Albus, I am scared. I wanted to have children, of course, but not this soon."  
  
"We will handle this together, Minerva," he told her seriously.  
  
She nodded, turning to look up at him. "I know, Albus."  
  
"May I kiss you?" he asked hopefully.  
  
She laughed and tilted her head up to press her mouth to his.  
  
* * *  
  
"Welcome to Leómann Cottage, Mrs. Dumbledore," Albus gestured grandly to the small, cozy cottage in front of them. It had two stories, was painted a pale green with white trim, had a wraparound porch and flowers bordering the stone walk leading up to the front door.  
  
Minerva's smile slowly broadened as she took it all in. "Oh, Albus, it is perfect."  
  
"I am glad you approve." Scooping her up into his arms, he headed for the front door.  
  
Caught by surprise, she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck. "Albus what are you doing?"  
  
"It is traditional for the groom to carry his new bride across the threshold of their new home," he answered calmly, carefully opening the front door.  
  
Her musical laugh rang through the house as they entered. "Albus, you crazy old coot."  
  
"Old, am I?" he asked, amused, as he set her on her feet in the entryway.  
  
She was too busy looking around to answer. The color scheme was pale blues and greens, reminding Minerva of spring. Any wood furnishings were painted white to better go with the pale colors. The kitchen was the exception. It had been done in bright yellow, to promote a sunny atmosphere. Going up the stairs, Minerva stopped and stared at the master bedroom. This had been done in red and gold, a tribute to the fact that both were from the house of the lion. When her new husband's arms slipped around her waist, she leaned back against him, tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. "Oh, Albus, it is wonderful. I could not have asked for a better home."  
  
"I am very glad to hear that, Minerva." His beard tickled as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "What do you say to trying out that bed?"  
  
Her smile when she turned in his arms to face him was positively wicked. "I think it is an excellent idea."  
  
Smiling, he captured her mouth in a warm kiss, nudging the door closed with one foot.  
  
* * *  
  
Seven months later, when the owls brought the post in, a familiar one landed in front of Albus' place at the High Table. "Hello, Mab. What brings you here?"  
  
The owl hooted and held out her leg, which had a scroll on it. Albus easily removed the scroll and offered the owl his bacon rinds. She pecked at them while he read the scroll. The message was short and to the point: _It is time._ "Albus?"  
  
"William, a family emergency has come up," he told the Deputy, rising quickly from his seat. "I will not be able to teach for a couple days."  
  
"I will let Armando know," William Triton told the Transfiguration professor.  
  
He turned to the Headmaster, but Armando spoke before he could. "I heard, William." As Albus moved past the Headmaster's chair, Armando murmured, "I hope the baby is strong and healthy."  
  
"Thank you, Headmaster," Albus murmured back before leaving the Great Hall. Armando had been the one to preside over Albus and Minerva's wedding. The only others present had been Albus' brother, Aberforth, Minerva's mother, Genevieve, Poppy, and Alastor. The wedding had been small due to the fact that it had had to be arranged so quickly. They preferred to keep it quiet anyway and only close friends had been told about the marriage.  
  
Summoning his cloak from his rooms, Albus exited the castle and strode briskly down the winding drive. Once outside the gates, he Apparated to Leómann Cottage and entered it to the sound of Minerva giving birth. Worried by her screams, he quickly climbed the stairs up to the second floor. He stopped outside the door to the master bedroom and listened for a moment. "Come on, Minerva, work with us here."  
  
"It hurts, Poppy," Minerva moaned.  
  
He couldn't stand to hear her in pain and quietly opened the door as Poppy answered soothingly, "I know, Minerva, I know, but Albus should be arriving soon."  
  
"I am here, Poppy," Albus announced quietly.  
  
The Healer in charge, Rosalind Baxton, glanced over at Albus. "Good, go over and hold your wife's hand, Albus. She's going to need it."  
  
"Albuuuus," the last syllable was drawn out as another contraction squeezed her abdomen.  
  
He half-perched beside her on the bed, gripping her hand in both of his. "I came as soon as I could, my dear."  
  
"Oh, Albus, it huuuuuuuuuuuuurts!" Minerva moaned, squeezing his hands as Poppy mopped her forehead with a damp flannel.  
  
He stroked her damp hair back from her forehead. "I know, Minerva, I know."  
  
"Make it stop," she whispered, gazing up at him with pain-filled eyes.  
  
He kissed her softly. "Let Rosalind and Poppy help, Minerva. That is what they are here for."  
  
She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder, since she was between contractions. "I will try, Albus, but it hurts so much."  
  
"Try relaxing as much as you can during your contractions," Poppy suggested from Minerva's other side. "It should help somewhat."  
  
He smiled at the Healer-in-training over his wife's head. "An excellent suggestion Poppy."  
  
* * *  
  
"All right, Dearie, it's time to push." Minerva had never felt such pain in her life. It felt as if her insides were trying to squeeze out a 10 cm opening between her legs instead of just the baby.  
  
A soft tickling sensation accompanied a peck on her forehead from her husband of seven months. "Only a little longer, my dear."  
  
"You can relax, Dearie," Rosalind told her when the contraction had passed.  
  
Minerva nodded, breathing hard. Poppy squeezed her hand. "You are doing fine, Minerva. One or two more pushes and then you will be done."  
  
A gasp of pain from Minerva announced the next contraction. "All right, Dearie, push again."  
  
"Right." Minerva took a deep breath and pushed again.  
  
Suddenly, a tearing, ripping pain worse than any she had felt before seized her and she screamed bloody murder. "Just a little more, Dearie, I have the head."  
  
"You are doing fine, Minerva," Albus murmured in her ear.  
  
The pain continued, as did Minerva's scream. "Not much longer, Minerva, I can see an arm."  
  
"It huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurts!" Minerva wailed, right before the pain ceased.  
  
"The baby is out," Rosalind announced as Minerva collapsed back against the pillows and Poppy took care of the umbilical cord. "Don't get too comfortable, Dearie, there's still the afterbirth to take care of."  
  
Minerva nodded, gasping for breath. "I know, but it cannot be much worse than what I just went through."  
  
"You are doing fine, my dear," Albus added through a chuckle.  
  
The next push was most definitely easier than the previous pushes and the afterbirth slipped easily into Poppy's waiting hands. "All done, Minerva."  
  
"Thank you, Poppy, Rosalind." Minerva rested against her pillows once more.  
  
A squeeze of her hand reminded her of one more person. "What about me, my dear?"  
  
"How could I forget _you_, Albus?" she asked, smiling up at her husband, reaching up with her free hand to comb through his beard. "You are the one who put me in this position, after all."  
  
He smirked as he captured her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. "It takes two to conceive a child, my dear."  
  
"I know." She snuggled against him contentedly.  
  
The sound of a baby crying made both look over at Rosalind and Poppy. The Healer turned to them, the baby in her arms wrapped in a pink blanket. "Albus, Minerva, you have a beautiful baby girl."  
  
"A girl?" Minerva asked, staring as Rosalind placed the baby in her arms. "We have a daughter?"  
  
"Indeed, you do, Dearie," the Healer confirmed with a nod. "With a healthy set of lungs, too."  
  
The new parents watched as their new daughter began to feed. "When she is not feeding, of course."  
  
"Albus!" Minerva exclaimed, pretending to be scandalized.  
  
He smiled and lowered his head to kiss her. Poppy and Rosalind finished cleaning up and quietly exited the cottage, leaving the new parents alone with their daughter. A long time later, he murmured, "Happy Valentine's Day, Minerva."  
  
"Happy Valentine's Day, Albus."  
  
* * *  
  
"Albus!" The Headmaster of Hogwarts turned in time to catch a tall, slender witch as she virtually threw herself into his arms and fastened her lips to his in a fierce kiss. Even before his mind registered who his assailant was, his body did and he returned the kiss just as fiercely, his arms tight around her.  
  
A hush descended around them and, when he reluctantly broke the kiss, his assailant made a soft sound of protest. "Minerva, we have attracted a bit of an audience."  
  
She slowly opened her eyes and deep green eyes met bright blue. "Very well, Albus, but you are going to owe me."  
  
"I look forward to it," he murmured as softly as she. Finally, reluctantly, he straightened and looked around at the people surrounding them. Although most of the faces were shocked, stunned, or surprised, there were a few grinning broadly, their friends and what little family either had left. Taking Minerva's left hand in his, he tapped the invisible wedding band set on the third finger with his wand. Without fanfare, it reappeared. He nodded to Minerva and, taking his left hand in hers, she tapped the invisible wedding band on the third finger with her wand. It, too, reappeared without fanfare. Entwining her fingers with his, he addressed those who had gathered around them. "Ladies and Gentlemen, now that Voldemort," shudders passed through the crowd, "is dead, I would like to announce that I have been happily married for almost sixty years to Minerva McGonagall." Murmurs ran through the crowd at this news. "Harry? Could you come with us, please?"  
  
Puzzled, the Boy Who Defeated Voldemort followed Albus and Minerva into the castle and up to the Headmaster's office. Once there, Albus and Minerva led Harry into their private study, attached to their offices via full-length mirrors. Done in red and gold with oak trim, Harry had to admit it looked very cozy. "Professors? What's going on?"  
  
"Have a seat, Harry," Albus gestured to a plush red-gold armchair. He sat. "My dear?"  
  
Minerva nodded and walked over to the bookshelves on one wall, apparently looking for something, while Albus conjured some tea for the three of them. When she returned to her husband's side, she was a carrying a heavy leather- bound book. "You have learned much these past seven years, Harry, about your parents, the wizarding world, and the value of friendship."  
  
"Not to mention love," Albus added, blue eyes twinkling, as Minerva flipped through the book to a specific page.  
  
Minerva smiled fondly at her husband before offering the book to Harry. "There is still more for you to learn."  
  
"I thought I was finished learning when I finished at Hogwarts," Harry commented, even as he accepted the book.  
  
Minerva seated herself beside Albus as the boy--young man opened the book. "No, Harry. We never stop learning. Every day, we gain new insight of the world we live in."  
  
"Why are you showing me this?" Harry asked, reading the captions beneath each picture. The first was of Albus and Minerva on their wedding day. The next was of their daughter, Jessica McGonagall, several days after she'd been born. The next several pages were dedicated to Jessica as she grew from a cheerful, giggling girl into a beautiful young woman with dark red, almost brown, hair and deep blue eyes.  
  
Albus was the one who answered, "Turn the page, Harry."  
  
He did and found himself staring at a wedding picture of Jessica and her new husband. "Daniel Potter?"  
  
"Yes, Harry." Minerva nodded. "Daniel and Jessica are your grandparents. They had James after several miscarriages, but could have no others after him."  
  
He looked up at them, wide-eyed. "Does that mean you two are my great- grandparents?"  
  
"Yes, Harry," Albus was the one to answer the question, holding his wife's hand tightly. "We are."  
  
Appearing confused, he looked back down at the photo album and slowly flipped through the rest of it, stopping at a picture of his parents with him as a baby. "Did my father know?"  
  
"Not until after he finished here at Hogwarts," Minerva told the young man. "We did not want him to assume that he would get special privileges because the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress were his grandparents."  
  
He looked up at them with tears glistening in his green eyes. "And is that why you waited to tell me?"  
  
"Yes," Albus nodded. "We made that decision even before your parents were killed."  
  
The green eyes suddenly widened. "Is that why Voldemort tried to kill me instead of Neville?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes," Albus struggled to find his voice. "He felt that the great-grandson of Albus Dumbledore, despite having a Muggle-born mother, would pose more of a threat than a son born to a long line of pureblood wizards and witches."  
  
Harry closed the photo album and rose to walk over to the window, looking down at the grounds of Hogwarts, where Ministry officials and members of the Order were cleaning up after the final battle. "I....don't know what to say. It's all a bit much to take in."  
  
"We are not asking that you automatically allow us into your life, Harry," Albus told him as he rose from his seat on the couch, "but we want you to know that we are here for you."  
  
Harry turned to face them. "I already know that, Professor. You two have always been there for me. I don't think I would be here today without either of you." Crossing the distance between himself and the Headmaster, Harry flung his arms around the older man. Albus gladly returned the hug, allowing tears of joy to flow freely down his cheeks. After a few moments, Harry pulled away and turned to Minerva, who had stood as well, and repeated the gesture. "Now, if you'll excuse me?"  
  
"Of course," Albus nodded and they watched as their great-grandson left their study.  
  
Minerva turned to her husband. "Now, I believe there is something you owe me?"  
  
"Is there?" Albus inquired, the picture of innocence.  
  
Minerva nodded, a smile curving her lips. "Yes, there is."  
  
He pretended to think for a moment. "I cannot seem to recall what it is. Perhaps you can remind me?"  
  
"With pleasure," she replied before winding her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.  
  
* * *  
  
"I have observed, my dear, that the Potter men have a habit of falling for redheads," Albus commented to his wife a year later at their great- grandson's wedding reception.  
  
She smiled as she watched Harry sweep past on the dance floor, his new wife firmly ensconced in his arms. Ginny had matured into a beautiful young woman, no longer given to blushing in her new husband's presence unless he teased her. "Yes, well, red hair _is_ rather attractive, Albus."  
  
"I prefer black hair myself," he commented, toying with a strand of her raven-dark hair.  
  
She glanced up at him. "You would."  
  
"Just like you prefer red hair," he murmured, kissing her cheek.  
  
Before she could kiss him properly, several friends interrupted them. "Hey, Min, may I have this dance?"  
  
"Don't call me Min, Stewart," Minerva answered, even as she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. "What about Rolanda, though?"  
  
Stewart chuckled as he led her over to the dance floor. "Don't worry about her. I'm sure Albus will offer to dance with her."  
  
It wasn't long before the dance floor was clear of dancers except for twelve friends who had somehow managed to survive three wars together: Albus and Minerva Dumbledore, Alastor and Poppy Moody, Stewart and Rolanda Pomfrey, Griffith and Mira Hooch, Milo and Irma Camden, and Rremly and Fianna Redgrave. Albus was the oldest of the ten, having started teaching at Hogwarts when the five younger men started in 1928. The six women had arrived at Hogwarts three years later in 1931 and, somehow, the twelve of them had formed a bond that had held strong despite many attempts to break it. Now, as twilight descended on the reception, the six couples exchanged partners seemingly at random, but the wives would always return to their husbands. When the dance was done, the twelve came together into a tight circle. They stood in silence for a moment, just savoring their closeness before turning to face their audience. A loud chorus of cheers and general noise greeted them and they slowly made their way off the dance floor to give others a chance to dance. They sat together at one of the tables, watching as dancing couples once again filled the dance floor. "Oh, Albus, everyone is so happy."  
  
"Weddings usually are, my dear," he murmured to his wife. "Whether they are small and intimate, or large and elegant."  
  
Holding each other close, they watched contentedly as former and current students danced in the deepening twilight.  
  
***Finite*** 


End file.
